False God
by madeinfrance
Summary: "Holding back her own sigh, she glances at his desk – his shoulders hunched over, his blue eyes full of incomprehension. He's so confused." Clark x Lois, missing scene from Dawn of Justice.


_"He'll be arraigned on charges of vandalism, resisting arrest, and the felony charge of making terrorist threats. That carries up to forty years in prison."_

"Poor son of a bitch," she hears Perry sigh. "Jenny? Headline: 'End of love affair with man in the sky', question mark," and her chest tightens at that. The young woman is not thrilled, either, agreeing and getting back to work with a sad nod.

She loves Superman, Lois knows. Most people do, in the office.

Holding back her own sigh, she glances at his desk – his shoulders hunched over, his blue eyes full of incomprehension. He's so confused.

He is, and he has the right to: for the past two years, she has watched him help, rescue, answer to desperate calls all over the world. He's intervened in countless crime scenes, stopped the release of a supergerm, prevented a missile strike, saved children from road accidents. Hell, he even shifted a tectonic plate, thus preventing a devastating earthquake.

And yet, it's not enough. He does all that he can, gives all that he has, and somehow, people still find a way to blame him, come up with incoherent reasons to hate him.

 _False God_ , the red, cutting words read.

But he's never pretended to be a God – hates that some think of him that way, in fact, or worse, think that he wants to be considered that way. ( _"I don't want them to see me like that, Lo_ ," he had told her one night, brows furrowed as she tried to comfort him with gentle strokes, soothe him down with tender kisses. _"I'm not a God – I just want to help."_

 _"I know, baby,_ " she'd whispered, lips brushing his soft skin. _"I know."_ )

She wants to reach out to him, to tell him that he hasn't done anything wrong. She wants to meet his eyes, and let him know that he's not alone, that this madness is temporary, that he'll be okay.

But he doesn't look at her, and all Lois can do is turn back, and get back to her work.

Fine, then. They can keep pushing, keep accusing a man that's probably more kind and human than any of them.

She'll fight back.

Taking a breath, Lois focuses again – she's got a job to do.

* * *

When she looks up, Clark's not here.

He told her at lunch that he was going to Gotham to investigate, so it's not a surprise. He didn't specify much, and she didn't push, the look on his face enough to let her know that this isn't just any case.

Even if he didn't say anything, she saw how shaken he was by the interview of the Nairobi victim, the morning after she got back, and Lois' willing to bet whatever he's researching has to do with that woman. The one that wanted to know how he decides which lives count, she had say.

As much as she can understand that woman's pain, Lois will never be okay with the one those unfair words caused him.

She knows him enough to know that statements like that touch him, that he believes them, as much as she tries to convince him not to.

By the end of the day, Clark's still hasn't gotten back to the office. Turning off her desk lamp, Lois packs her things, texts him that she's taking care of diner and heads home. On the way, she gets a pack of his favorite beers, and drops by that thai restaurant he likes.

She enters the apartment with a moan of relief. Abandoning her coat, bag and shoes, she makes her way to the living room, where's the TV is on, to the dining room. It's here that she finds him, eyebrows furrow in concentration, his eyes stuck on his computer. She smiles.

Superman's cute, when he's focused.

"Hi," she says quietly, her smile growing fond when he looks up at her. Despite everything, the one he gives her is sincere.

"Hey."

"Mister Fang says hi," she smirks, dropping the bag of food and the beers on the table. His own smile turns a little more tender as he takes in all the good she just brought, and she walks over to him.

"You didn't have to do that," he says knowingly. Drapping her arms around his neck, she kisses his temple, his cheek, once, twice.

"Of course I did: we haven't been over there in a while – I didn't want them to stop loving us," and she's proud of herself when that gets her a chuckle. He leans in his chair and into her, and Lois can feel his body relax a little as he breathes her in, head thrown back, one of his hand coming to rest on her arms.

She kisses him again, nuzzles him gently. "How are you feeling?," she asks. He swallows, and she doesn't miss the way his shoulders tense up again.

"I'm fine," he lies.

"You're not," she says softly. He sighs, closing his computer as he gets up, escaping her touch.

"I am," he says, and the way his eyes meet hers only briefly is another proof that she's right. "We always knew Superman wouldn't be loved by everybody. Today is just evidence of that – it's okay," he says again, heading to the kitchen where he starts looking around.

Acting nonchalant and hoping she'll change the subject, she knows.

Releasing a soft sigh, Lois hesitates, torned between leaving him be and try to make him spend a nice evening anyway, or confronting something that she knows he should get off his chest.

It's a bad habit they both have, sometimes: closing up. She can't blame him, because she's too aware that she's the same - alone and self-sufficient for so long, they had learnt to deal with their problems and insecurities by themselves.

Ever since they've been together, it got better, she thinks. She trusts him with her life and far more, and knows he does as well, and even though they'd never done so with anyone else, relying on each other came naturally.

She doesn't think she could live without him, now that she's known life with him.

And yet – _yet_. Lois is all too aware of the fact that she hasn't entirely opened up to him about Nairobi. That he's doing the same thing now, even though he hurts, and that breaks her heart.

"Clark - " she weakly tries again, but he doesn't let her. Putting up a façade not strong enough to reach his eyes, Clark settles the plates on their wooden table, looking right at her.

"I promise, Lo: I'm fine. I just – want to forget everything, at least for tonight." He smiles, closes the distance between them. "Please."

And how can she deny him that?

She knows that it's not the right choice, that it's not the healthy thing to do, but Lois can't – she can't refuse him that. She loves the man, a man that's too good for that damn world he's been sent too, and here he is, asking her to comfort him, to please let him have a small moment of peace in that hell they seem to have entered. To pretend everything's fine, when nothing is.

He's become her world, and looking into those blue eyes, she knows that there's no way she can't refuse him anything – least of all that.

So, Lois simply smiles, nodding as she throws her arms around his neck once more, holding on as tight, getting as close as she can. His own arms immediately hold her back, much more delicate and venerant that she could ever be, and, as she feels him burry his face in her neck, Lois swears that she'll prove his innocence if it's the last thing she does.

But, for now, she threads her fingers into his thick hair, gazes back when he pulls back to look at her, kisses back when he leans in.

For now, it's just them.


End file.
